


I Know The Night Is Long (But Just Hold On)

by annegirlblythe



Series: Prongslet [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Animagus, Butterbeer, Concerned Parents, Gen, Harry grew up loved, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Post Goblet of Fire, Protective Sirius Black, Sirius has a foul mouth, married wolfstar, parent wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:45:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annegirlblythe/pseuds/annegirlblythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has nightmares after his encounter in the graveyard, and all his parents can offer him is love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know The Night Is Long (But Just Hold On)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Make It Through" by Tyrone Wells.

The Lupin house is buzzing gently with the calm before the storm. Sirius and Remus Lupin are lying in bed, Sirius’s head on his husband’s chest, but they both know that sleep will have to wait. He sighs, says, "It's like when he was a baby, taking shifts and soothing him to sleep. I just...I don't know how much we're helping him."

"We are helping him,” Remus answers, running loving fingers through Sirius’s hair. It’s shorter, these days, now that the teenage rebel has softened with age. “The best we can, anyway, but what happened to him....it’s not something you recover from right away, hon.” 

“No shit,” Sirius says, without bite. “He's just seen his classmate get murdered before his eyes by the man who murdered his fucking parents. That he gets any sleep at all is a miracle. But what are we doing?” 

“We're making sure he doesn't sit through nightmares alone, making sure he's busy during the days so he doesn't stew in it. We're making sure at least we believe him, and that he can talk about it whenever he needs to. I don't know what else we can do."

"Yeah..." Remus’s sinewy body is warm, and Sirius breathes into it, gentle. 

They fall quiet, until Remus asks suddenly, "Do you think we should have him see a shrink?"

"What the hell is a shrink?"

"A therapist," Remus tries to explain, and when Sirius still looks blank, goes on, "a person who's trained to help you work through things in your mind by listening to you and giving you ways to deal with stress and trauma."

"Muggles are fuckin weird." 

"Quite helpful, actually."

"I wish Lily was here," Sirius muses, and it's such a change from the usual melancholy about James, it makes Remus look at him quizzically. "She'd know how to make him better."

"I know." 

"Instead he's got us."

"We love him."

"But what good does that do him?"

"It does him a world of good, trust me," Remus says, in his gentle but firm way of ending the conversation. "We're going to Headquarters tomorrow. Kingsley wants help sorting through some old letters of the Lestranges."

"Okay."

"And Harry could benefit from a few hours with Ron and them."

"Alright. As long as I don't have to live there, I can listen to my mother's portrait for a few hours.” Sirius glances at the grandfather clock in the corner. “It's later than usual, you wanna try and get some sleep?"

Remus hums, and settles himself more comfortably, bringing Sirius’s head down, and wrapping him up in a tight hug. "Remember when we were upset the week he left for Hogwarts for the first time? We really didn't know what was coming for us, did we?"

"I'm thinking earlier,” Sirius answers with a sigh. “Remember how scared he was when he was eight and I accidentally let slip that Hagrid was missing on an Order mission? Remember how bad we felt when he cried for a week before Hagrid finally came back?"

"Or when he fought with Ron last year and was so miserable you almost went down to pull him out so he didn't have to deal with the Tournament?"

"The stupid Tournament. What a joke."

As they continue talking, their conversation filled with nostalgia and regret, a strangled cry from down the hall makes Sirius stand up. "It's my turn. I'll be back if I can get him back to sleep."

"Good luck, love."

Sirius pulls on Remus’s dressing gown and pads down the hall to Harry's room in the flat. He crosses the room, as has become routine ever since his godson had returned home three weeks ago. "Harry. Harry, honey, it's just a dream. Wake up."

The kid's eyes flutter, and he sits up, breathing heavily. "Sirius," he breathes. 

"Right here, kid. Go back to sleep." 

Harry nods, sleepily, and lays back down. Sirius rubs his back for a while, trying to calm the still-shaking fourteen year old, keeping a steady stream of low, comforting speech. "I remember one night when we were a little younger than you, I had a nightmare in our dormitory at Hogwarts. I screamed, and woke everyone up. Once they saw I was okay, Moony and Peter went back to sleep, but your dad got up and sat with me until I calmed down. I never forgot that. 

"I'm not going to lie and tell you it's over. You've been through an extraordinary amount of bullshit, and there's probably more to come. But we're on your side. You're not ever going to have to deal with this alone. We've shown you that over the years, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry says quietly. "But what if I have to- have to duel him again, or one of his Death Eaters just does an Avada Kedavra on me from the back? What if he hurts you and Remus? What if he hurts Ron and Hermione? What about Hogwarts? What if I get back in September and they won't let me in because they think I'm a liar? Or a danger to the school? What do I do then?"

Sirius sighs and keeps his hand on Harry's back. He glances around the room: neat blue walls covered with Quidditch posters, and pictures of Lily and James, pictures of the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville, and the rest of Harry’s friends. On the dresser sits Hedwig's empty cage. Harry's robes and books are all over the floor, a sure sign Remus either hasn't been in here in the light of day lately. 

"You're too young to be dealing with this. I'm sorry, Harry. If I could keep you safe from everything, I would. But the world is out there. I know that probably isn't any better, but that's all I have." Sirius’s voice sounds thin and worn, even to himself, but before he has to let his pathetic advice ring through the room, Remus appears in the doorway, his calm presence completing their little family. He's holding three mugs. "You two want some butterbeer?" 

With a weak smile, Harry sits up, takes the mug held out to him and drinks deeply, feeling thoroughly warmed. "Where'd you get this?"

"Tonks brought a case up last week when she dropped off those files from Mad-Eye," Remus answers. “She said she’d been saving it for a rainy day, and, in her words, it’s fucking pouring.” 

Sirius nods, envying his cousin’s simple way with words. She might know what to say to Harry, but he could hardly ask her to say it for every nightmare. 

The three drink in silence, calmed in each other's presence. Harry has never known another family. He doesn't remember his parents. Sirius had been the one to teach him to fly, to tie his shoes, to lie. Remus had taught him to read, to make friends, and, most recently, during his third year, how to cast a Patronus. Harry had been so affected by the security crackdown at Hogwarts, he’d had to come home for a week and recuperate, learning all the while how to defend himself from the Dementors. 

It had been Sirius and Remus he'd hugged goodbye when he left for Hogwarts for the first time, Sirius and Remus he'd written to three times a week ever since. Who'd given him the coolest Christmas presents of anyone in his year, who'd given him advice on every mystery he'd tried to solve, even when he was eleven years old and poking his nose places it didn’t belong. Who'd handed him, without a second thought, the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, telling him they were both birthrights and symbols of utmost trust. 

Sirius and Remus, who had in recent years, kept him updated with Order business. Until the night in the graveyard, however, when Harry had been the one to the inform them. 

Remus crosses the room, kisses Harry's temple and sits down next to him on the bed. "We're going over to Grimmauld Place tomorrow. Kingsley needs Sirius and me to go through some papers. You want to come, hang out with your friends for a while?"

"Yeah. Anyone else from the Order gonna be around?" Harry asks, taking a long drink from his mug. 

"The Weasleys are holding down the fort, but others will probably be popping in and out like usual. You know what it's like." Remus says, then adds wryly, "Professor Snape will not be there. He's made his reports. He should be gone for a while."

Harry nods. Everything in him feels fragile lately. He doesn't know if he could handle Snape’s taunting right now. 

They finish their butterbeers, and Remus banishes the mugs back downstairs, listening for the clink of them hitting the counter. "I'm going to go back go bed, boys,” he says, his voice sounding for all the world like it had when things were normal. “I love you, I'll see you in the morning."

"Love you," Harry answers automatically, laying back down in bed and switching off his lamp. As Remus leaves, Sirius disappears at the foot of Harry's bed and in his place is a huge, shaggy black dog, who curls himself into a protective sleeping position at the foot of the bed. "Night," Harry says, before falling asleep, hoping the warm presence nearby will be enough to keep the memory of the graveyard at bay.


End file.
